


Reunion

by malleusmaleficarum



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Almost Kiss, Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, Episode: s03e02 Primavera AU, Forgiveness, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Short One Shot, Unresolved Sexual Tension, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-04-19 14:56:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4750511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malleusmaleficarum/pseuds/malleusmaleficarum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Will and Hannibal had reunited much sooner?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reunion

The clock’s chime rang three times, and with it rose the cacophony of pigeons’ wings. Hannibal stood in the courtyard of the Norman chapel, observing the birds’ chaotic escape from the old nooks and crannies into the night sky, silhouettes scattering like ants from a flooded dirt hill. He, too, lived on impulse – one moment hidden away from society’s constant gaze – the next, thousands of feet in the air, with a destination that no observer would know unless he wanted them to.

It had been eight long months since that night in his kitchen. He recalled for a moment how the karambit knife had pierced Will’s abdominal flesh like a thin fabric. If Hannibal couldn’t be the one to make him happy, he’d give him a smile he could never take off. Will had been trembling – first from his damp clothing, and then from the trauma of his wound. And after that, Hannibal forced him into his arms, the other man too weak to reject his embrace. He wanted Will to feel the pain he’d caused him. Viscerally. Violently. He relished how the scar – that… twisted smile – probably still caused Will to ache, forever a reminder of his betrayal.

The church was empty. _Good._ He’d need complete solitude for what he was about to do.

***

Will swallowed dryly, a tugging, nagging ache rising from beneath his scar as he stared at the monstrosity before him. A valentine that only Hannibal could devise. “You got away…” he whispered to himself, to the vast cavern of the cathedral. “Why now?”

Then, the tail-end of a shadow swept by in his peripheral. Was it just the candlelight playing off the pews? A trick of his fragile imagination? _He couldn’t be here. He’d never risk it._ But then he saw it, the figure of someone from a past life, before his baptism in Abigail’s blood.

“Hello, Hannibal.”

“Hello, Will.”

“Not going to stab me again?”

“Would you like me to?” Will could hear the subtle hint of a smirk in Hannibal’s voice.

“I’d hate to ruin your suit.” Will braved a step towards the grated archway that Hannibal hid behind. “I see you’ve taken quite the task in making... _this._ Why not come out so I can thank you properly?”

“I wasn’t sure that you’d appreciate it, given our last encounter.”

Will felt as if he was offering confession to the devil himself. For a split second, the stag horns flashed over Hannibal’s silhouette, Will quickly blinking the image away. When he finally spoke, his voice cracked slightly. “I suppose that you’re hurt,” Will said, turning his eyes to where Hannibal’s were supposed to be. “But I think you hurt me worse.” He raised his hand to the smile.

The figure moved out of sight. Each footstep down the stone staircase offered a hollow echo, almost to the same beat of Will’s heart. As if Hannibal could hear it from that distance, mocking Will’s survival. Or was it a celebration? He’d meant for this reunion, after all.

Finally, he came forth from the shadows, the darkness leaving him like a cloak. The disguise was gone, and here was his former friend and confidant, clean of blood and rain and sweat, back in the person suit. But Will was one of the few to survive his game knowing there was a gaping hole in Hannibal’s disguise.

“Here I am. And here you are,” Hannibal said, holding his arms out to his sides. A welcome. “Just as I’d hoped.”

“Yes, your lure was quite effective.” Will said, taking a few more tentative steps toward him. The candles flickered as he passed, and he couldn’t help but feel a certain coldness as he approached the man who had nearly killed him. “I’m not sure it’s my taste, but thank you anyway, I suppose.” _Liar_ rang in his ears in the interim of silence.

“He was ardent,” Hannibal said as he looked over his work in admiration. “But that was his downfall. He assumed too much of me. That is… a distasteful quality. I found him much more interesting to ply in death.”

“So, you refuse another man’s offer, and give him to me. Is this your sick form of a proposition?” Will said with a shaky laugh. His heart was pounding now, and he could swear the malformed heart beside him had a matching pulse.

“A proposition?” Hannibal shook his head, placing a delicate hand on the heart. “I prefer to think of it as an invitation. To a longstanding friend who understands the aesthetics lying just beneath the skin. Even if he refuses to admit it.” He turned toward Will to smile and removed his now bloodied hand from the sculpture. He slowly approached, his steady gaze causing Will to avert his eyes to the ground. Slowly yet suddenly, Hannibal lifted Will’s chin with the bloodied hand, forcing him to make direct eye contact. The scent of blood turned Will’s stomach but also set something ablaze below the scar, the coil of heat tightening as Hannibal placed his mouth directly next to his ear, warm breath causing a shiver to go down the profiler’s spine. “No one else is here, Will. It’s only you and me.” And then, in barely a whisper – a _hiss_ : “ _Show yourself_.”

Will’s breath hitched, and he then felt the sudden irresistible urge to wrap his arms around Hannibal. The scar prickled, remembering the gouts of blood pouring out onto this creature. That was the last time they’d been this close. The scar remembered, but Will’s mind was fuzzy. It was as if the fever had returned, and the good doctor was easing him into stupor. Hannibal’s gaze moved to Will’s lips, faces so close that they were breathing each other in. He swiped a thumb across the bottom lip, a trickle of blood smearing and staining Will’s open mouth. Hannibal waited for the other man’s reaction, gripping Will’s woolen sweater tightly with his unsullied hand. Slowly, Will ran his tongue across his bottom lip, making sure to soak up every bit of blood that Hannibal had offered him. Another gift from his old friend.

Hannibal moved both hands up to Will’s cheeks, expression full of pride, of longing, of _hunger_. “How does it taste?”

Will swallowed, reaching up to hold Hannibal’s bent elbows. Carefully, he leaned in until his lips were nearly touching Hannibal’s pouted ones. “ _Magnificent._ ”


End file.
